#yes I'm still bitter that he no longer has a regular show

[zhengzi]

i think I've watched almost every single online paul rudd content I can get my hands on and I'm somewhat mad that he never did an interview with Craig Ferguson

[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 07

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.5k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, swearing.

♤ A/N: Surprise! I'm really sorry it took me this long, but I finally found the time and drive to write again :) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

06 07

"What do you mean this hybrid doesn't exist?"

Her eyes are wavering with an unspoken fear, perhaps caused by the bitterness my questions holds. I'm not happy, and she knows.

“It’s just, the chance that a dangerous breed such as the tiger hybrid would escape our system is basically zero..” The gaze she held on the computer screen unsurely moves my way. My expression must've instilled another layer of anxiety to the already existing one, as her mouth abruptly stops moving and her pupils dilate.

“Go on, explain.” The tone of my voice softens a bit as I notice her visible discomfort worsening. Even if there is no way that I’ll get any information from this place regarding Taehyung and his owner, I would still like to know why they’re both not showing up here.

Eun-ji takes a few deep breaths to stabilize her voice. As she does her posture slowly relaxes just a little and her eyes lose some of the nervousness they held before. “Because the first ‘successful’ tiger hybrid ran rampant after killing their creator, anyone who still breeds or creates them is being watched very closely by us, as well as by some other institutions.”

Perhaps it’s my lack of reaction that causes her to trail off at the end. Though I’m not judging her or her story, unlike she may think. To encourage her to continue, I give her a nod, tilting my head to show interest.

“The regular citizen isn’t even allowed to have one, needing special training to handle them. It’s like that for most hybrids that find their origins in wild animals. Creating tiger hybrids obviously requires a lot of knowledge when it comes to playing with genes and breeding them…. Well there are only three organization that are authorized to do so. All the resulting hybrids are registered and chipped.”

The explanation, which turns out to be a lengthy one, gets broken by a shuddering breath leaving her lips. She composes herself, clinging on to the little confidence she has left in her line of work to speak about the rest of her clarification.

“Of course people have tried to do it themselves, but those d.i.y operations have always ended in disappointment. If not taken proper care of, with substances only a board certified hybrid doctor can provide you, the pregnancy will fail. These are no easy practices they are dealing with.”

After the girls’ last words I give myself some time to think, letting a silence full of tension fill the room. It must be obvious that my mind is somewhere else at the moment, as the other girl in the room does her best to stay quiet. I don’t need much time however, my thoughts having quickly rearranged themselves as they were trained to do.

“So what you’re saying is, since tiger hybrids are hard to ‘create’, if you will, there are only a few people who actually manage to bring them to life. And so those few people are kept under close watch, as are the hybrids they successfully wake, am I correct?”

Eun-ji nods affirmatively, clearly happy that I seem to understand the situation. “So there is absolutely no way that someone without authorization has had a decent attempt at either genetically merging a human together with a tiger or getting a tiger hybrid pregnancy to be successful?”

Perhaps there might be a bit of scepticism in the question I asked, as her attitude immediately changes into a defensive one. “There is not! Whatever hybrid you’re searching for either gave you a false identity or is not a tiger hybrid at all, which would seem rather unlikely. I told you they get chipped right? Why not go look into that.”

“He doesn’t have one. We already had a hospital take a look at him, they didn’t find anything. ” The statement seems to shock her, the gears in her head instantly turning as to find an answer to this riddle. She however can’t seem to get one.

“They can be removed, can they not? They’re just under the skin. If someone decided to just cut it out they could. Terrifying, but plausible. Either that or one of your faithful authorized employees has been leaking information to outsiders.”

This is where Eun-ji seems to give up. Her shoulders sagging and a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “There would still be the problem of the missing equipment, test subjects, practice… How would you even get hold of fertilized human eggs to play around with? But I guess that wouldn’t be totally impossible. As for cutting it out… There would be a noticeable scar. The implants are always put in the same place, it wouldn’t be hard to miss.”

I make a mental note stating to ask Taehyung about all of this when I get back. If anyone knows how he got onto this world it would be him. “Is there a possibility that you could have someone look into it?” The girl nods in defeat, paying more attention to the ground than to anything else. “I’ll see if I can get someone on the case. I’ll have them contact you if we know anything.”

After those words she turns around in her chair, facing the monitor that had already put itself into sleep, and turns it off. Taking a notepad out of the drawer to her left, she quickly writes something down with the pen from her breast pocket. “I’ll get on it right away. Would you like me to walk you back to the exit?”

I shake my head. “No It’s okay, I’ll find my way back. Thank you for cooperating.” Eun-ji gives me a small smile, followed by a bow and walks out of the room taking the note with her, presumably immediately keeping herself busy with the extra work. Not wanting to waste any time I copy her, walking myself back into the direction we came from. Turns out it proves quite easy to find the exit by myself.

It’s already far past dinnertime when I make it back to the office. Not many of my colleagues have remained in their seats, most of them opting for a nice meal with their families. The few that have stayed behind are mostly known to live alone, quite like myself.

I quietly knock on my supervisor’s door, but when no response emerges from within the room, I can safely deduce that she too has already returned home. “I’ll have to write her a report about today later..” I mutter to myself, before stepping away from the door and instead heading to the cells at the back.

Technically the arrest period had already ended for Taehyung, as the law wouldn’t allow us to keep him locked up for any longer without any charges being held against him. His cell however technically was never locked and so even now, he is free to go wherever he wants. Though it didn’t change the fact that he still has no place to go to.

“Good evening. Had anything to eat yet?” He just chose to stay here and we accepted it. “Oh, hello! Yes, that tall handsome bulky man gave me something earlier, I can’t remember his name. He said something about it ‘being the best shit in town’.”

I slightly giggle at his quote, knowing immediately who it belongs to. “That definitely sounds like something Namjoon would say. What did he give you?”

Taehyung looks a lot better than he did yesterday. The stress of the interrogation seems to have completely worn off, instead traded for the sweet bouncy personality he used to show around me.

“Umm it was something in the shape of a circle and it had meat all over it… Oh! I think he called it a pizza? It was delicious!”

“You’ve never had pizza before?” The words leave my mouth before I actually get the chance to process them, causing me to instantly regret ever even opening my mouth. These days are stressful enough for him as they are, he doesn’t need a painful reminder of the life he never got to live on top of that.

The question doesn’t seem to hit him as hard as I though it would though. In fact, his demeanour doesn’t seem to change at all. Although sadly, it doesn’t make his next words any less painful. “Nope! When I first got adopted all they would feed me was wet cat food. It wasn’t great, but at least I got my three meals a day. The foster family I stayed at after my first owners mysteriously disappeared didn’t actually have the money to even take proper care of themselves, so at that time all I would get was whatever was left of their dinner that day, if there was even any left. It was mostly just greens. The lack of meat made me real sick at the time.”

He pauses talking for a second to look up at my face through the metal bars. The content look on his face quickly changes to one of worry once he catches my eyes. It’s no mystery why, I know I look at him pitifully. Even if he may not wish for my concern, I am only human. I can perfectly hide it when I need to, but this is not one of those cases.

“There it is again, that sad look on your face…” He sits up straight on the side of his bed to fully observe me, a tilt of his head giving him away. I send a sad chuckle his way as I reach for the door of his enclosure, inviting myself into the small space with him. He doesn’t object.

“Is it that obvious?” It was meant more as a way to lighten the mood, not as an actual question that needs answering. He still does however, giving me a simple slow nod. “You don’t need to feel bad for me.”

“Someone has to. You deserve at least that much.”

There’s a chair neatly placed under a small desk in the room. It used to be quite lively, with all kinds of bright colours blending into each other. It was a little positive additive into the dark grey room, but after all the anger that has been acted out on it, it no longer has that same shine.

I pull the chair out to place myself upon it, straddling the seat while I rest my arms on top of the back rest. Facing the tiger I use my arms as a pillow to lean my head on, making myself comfortable on the creaking furniture.

“Say, Taehyung, do you remember anything from when and where you were formed?”

He seems slightly taken aback at first, though quickly regains his composure. He also doesn’t immediately answer, first taking some time to think before coming back to me. “I was born a hybrid to two purebred tiger hybrids. They did their best trying to care for me in the little time we got to spend together, but seeing as it happened on a breeding farm getting to spend time with my parents wasn’t the plan. I got sold off pretty quickly, as soon as I learned to hold my first few full conversations.”

“Do you… Would you happen to know what happened to the farm? To your parents?” I fail to hide my apprehensiveness, needing too much space to form a careful approach. This shouldn’t feel like an interrogation to him, I never even announced one. There is little reason for him to answer me, the vital information from his side has already been given anyway. Nonetheless, even though I probably shouldn’t be doing this right now, I can’t just miss this opportunity.

“I heard my adoptive family talking about how the place was burnt down a while later. Most likely the police had caught a hold of it and they had to delete their left behind evidence. Both building and hybrids.”

Despite talking about the death of his parents, he seems to tell the story with relative ease. Probably not having much connection with the far past, his brain too young to truly hold on to the memory of them.

“They were successful too, as the case got dropped faster than lightning. It wasn’t long before the general public forgot about it too, believing it was just another misunderstanding. Besides, hybrid lives weren’t as important anyway.”

The amount of rights hybrids had when they were first created back in the day were close to zero, only strictly being seen as objects to show off whatever possible wealth one may have had. For a while there was even a popular theory going around that hybrids didn’t actually have the ability to feel any kind of emotion or pain. The genetic puzzle wouldn’t allow for it, as it had been tampered with to an extreme extent. This only built on the carelessness shown towards them, slowly chipping away at their sanity.

Although the rumours were wrong, they came from a place of truth. Facial expressions were rare for hybrids, as was the ability to speak. Most of them couldn’t even keep up with regular humans, exhaustion quickly taking over the little anger they could show. Scientists hadn’t yet quite figured out how to perfectly combine the pieces of genetic code and so hybrids were more like living dolls in the eyes of evil humans. Having no voice to object and barely any means to actually hurt anyone, it wasn’t much of a surprise the selfish nature in humans came to rise.

Luckily, or depending on how you look at it, sadly, these first generation hybrids were never able to reproduce. The doll like hybrid features eventually died out with the rise of the newly perfected pieces and the theory was debunked by a group of scientist who actually did care about the hybrids’ wellbeing. Those hybrids had lived through countless punishments, and every single one of them had hurt. A lot.

Right now hybrids in a lot of ways are superior to the rest of us. Having the combined senses of both animal and human alike, society has reluctantly given up on trying to contain them. They are still to be bought and owned, but no longer to be treated like dirt. The smartest of hybrids have even already gotten complete freedom to do as the please, no longer having to be bound to a human to roam freely. However, those unable to pass the close to impossible tests aren’t so lucky.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

Taehyung gives me a reassuring wave of his hand, effectively trying to lighten the mood, along with a sad smile. It wouldn’t take a trained professional to know he still longs for his parent’s presence, even if he may do well hiding it.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

That doesn’t make the situation more okay, but I hold my remarks back. For now, that might just be for the best.

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @the8luvr @deathkat657 @elenaramos1 @namjoonies-dimple

[katsukikitten]

Warning : 18 plus AU, adult themes, collage au

Part one Part two

"Mina, I really don't see why I have to wear this Bikini, I prefer a cutout  one piece." You say sipping your iced coffee as Mina packs her beach bag with sponges, rags, and tons of bottled water. You wait impatiently by the door of your shared, temporary dorm. 

"Becauuuusssse, I already told you! That Instagram post I made of all of us blew up, even with my large following. Remember how many people we brought in last time?"

"Yes, we made 45% more profit…" You bite at the inside of your lip as you think, adjusting your white t-shirt so it sat nicely above the black bikini bottoms. You weren't one to argue with numbers.

"Well now with the combined efforts with the shirtless boys we can actually use that allowance you got us for unlimited kegs." 

"No, Mina new windows and installation. They said the house was hot, which means winter will be brutal." You roll your eyes, "Unless you want to freeze this winter, personally I have no problem with freezing." 

She giggles at your joke, pulling you along as if you were the reason for being late instead of her. Mina spies Uraraka and Jiro waving them towards the two of you before she whispers softly to you.  

"Just, try to have fun today no matter what." 

You wondered if that was an omen, a jinx or if she already knew what lied ahead. Either way you would not being having too much fun. 

The four of you arrive just before the first customer's begin to line up and already you want to organize. Counting the heads until you see a certain ash blonde causing your normally cold blood to run hot. Too hot. 

"Mina?" Your voice dips low, as ice dances in the air around you, "What is he doing here?" 

"Who?" She plays dumb as the other two women greet the group of men. Harsh garnet cut to you as you steel your glare. 

"Oi, Icy Brat. What are you fucking doing here?" His voice grates your nerves and for a moment you see red. Thinking of freezing him and going about your day. Instead you choose to give him the cold shoulder, averting your gaze. 

"We're doing pairs for washing today. I'm glad you could make it" Kirishima beams, coming in for a hug, you take a step back offering him a polite smile. His smile doesn't lose an ounce of shine, it makes you respect him a bit more. 

"I'll handle the cash and direct cars then." You say pointing to the box, ready to grab the fanny pack and head to the street. Denki grabs onto you gently, releasing you as if you were hot to the touch.  

"No it has to be a boy girl ratio. I promise the outcome will be worth it, please!" This won't be the first or last time both Denki and Mina beg for your help. You look around at what must be their subconscious pairings. Jiro calls Denki over as the first car pulls up, Kirishima seems to wait patiently, his eyes lingering on bubble gum pink skin, while Sero is already guiding cars with Uraraka in tow. 

That leaves you and Bakugou who has his arms crossed, sneering at the customers. 

Your hope dwindles that today would be a good day.

Sero points to a blue car indicating that this was going to be yours to share with the hot head. Sighing you waltz over in your black wedge heels and begin your work. Bakugou looms over the wet car, sponge in hand. The two of you work in silence until the third car, a red coupe with a couple inside about to receive the show of their bi lives. 

They comment on the tension they feel between the two of you right away, they notice the glares and lack of communication. Even making small jokes about how funny it would be to see one of those cliche water fights between the two of you. 

"Icebrat, you're doing it fuckin wrong." Bakuogu barks, you ignore him, continuing to wash the car. Anger burns in his chest, never understanding why you acted so high and mighty. 

"Gonna give me the cold shoulder are ya?" He growls, eyeing the dirty water before a thought crosses his mind, "Love to see you ignore this."

His voice is sadistic before he throws the dirty water across the car onto your frame, suds and water cling to your white t, showcasing the black bikini top underneath. Your temper spikes enough that your shirt collects frost at the seams before you slowly remove it. Glaring at the hot head when you're done.  

"Fuck." The couple say aloud grabbing onto each other as they watch the scene unfold. Your powerful frame guiding you with a deadly clack of your heels. Your hands find the bucket of water Mina and Kirishima were using, your fingers tap the bucket and the water forms a film of ice at the top. Meanwhile Bakugou goes to "correct" whatever mistake you were making. The couple's eyes watch the unsuspecting Bakugou reach up their hood to clean a particular spot before water is dumped over his spiky blonde hair. 

You tap the back of his shirt making it stiff with frost, when he moves to face you it shatters away from his body. Revealing the sculpted plans of his abs and the scars of untold stories. 

If it weren't for all of that ice water Bakugou would have blown you sky high, he comes close to you. Huffing as his eyes become wild and wide. All you offer him is a deadly polite smile as you stare him in the face, unbothered and unphased by his towering presence. 

"What? I was only getting the spot you missed." When he says nothing you allow yourself to relish the silence, placing your hand on his shoulder capping it in obvious ice. 

"Are you giving me the cold shoulder now?" The question is nonchalant before you signal to Sero for another car as you walk to get more supplies. Sero whistles at a bristling Bakugou before leaning into the driver's side window to give directions. Before he can ask for a tip the driver is offering a twenty dollar bill while his eyes are flickering between yourself and Bakugou. 

"Mark us down as a regular." He sighs as his girlfriend does too.  Sero happily tucks the money into the fanny pack.

"Will do." 

Somehow the two of you manage quips and water pranks back and forth without killing each other. Making it through the long day but earning a high amount of tips. Mina clings to you as you count cash, sweat on her brow as the sun settles into an unbearable afternoon heat. 

"Uuugghhh how much longer mom?" She asks, sighing at your icy touch. You roll your eyes as you count the last stack. 

"Not too much hush." You place the money into the lock box, wondering how the hell the eight of you made so much money in just seven hours. 

"But I'm starving! Plus we still have to pick our rooms!" 

"You're that excited to move all of our items into what was a male dominated space?" You ask coolly as Jiro and Uraraka lean against the collapsible table. 

"I'm stoked." Jiro comments, her earjacks twirling themself as her eyes wander.

"It will be nice to be settled before the fall term." Uraraka sighs looking down at her phone, idly scrolling through her socials. The two women nod as the guys approach. You purposely ignore the hot head and allow your eyes to meet Denki's, although it takes him a few long seconds to meet your gaze. He was a little preoccupied with a black and white checkered bikini with matching Van's. 

"Earth to space cadet." Sero nudges his ribs subtly pointing to you as you gaze at him as a teacher would a student caught daydreaming. He clears his throat. 

"Well it seems your theory has paid off. We've made quite a bit of cash today." You lock the box before standing, reluctantly adding, "The pairing of female and male will be standard from here on out. Although we should only need a few more fundraising events depending on what the house needs. Which I trust won't be too much."

Three of the four boys shared a concerned look while the fourth knows how bitter your words were going to taste.

"We'll meet you at the house." 

❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥

The four of you cannot deny the excitement you feel as yall walk up to the historical home. The upper balcony seems to wrap around the back but only partially in the front while the porch below stretches across the front of the home. The siding had been repainted and the banisters above and below are wrapped in what will be sparkling lights at night. A stately set of double doors catch your eye before they yawn open by the hands of Denki Kaminari who is trying not to visibly sweat. 

"Home sweet home!" Denki steps aside to let the four of you in with your belongings. Your eyes dissect the place as you press your tongue into your bottom lip, trying your best to keep your cool. This place needed a lot of what you deemed necessities. You notice the familiar dining room table as the foldable card table they had at the carwash surrounded by the cheap camping chairs you thought you had replaced. 

The only decent looking room was the living room and even then it was only thanks to you. The leather arm chairs were placed haphazardly around the new sectional you had delivered as it circled around the TV you demanded from the dean.

Denki watches your manicured nails rap against your skin as you think.  

"The window installation and insulation went smoothly?" 

"Yes." Sero answers as your eyes wander around the room landing on your mattress and platform bed frame resting against the wall in the nook by the study turned bedroom. 

"We didn't know where to put it since the bedrooms aren't sorted out for you lovely ladies just yet." Kirishima smiles but your mind isn't on why it is there. No, your mind is wondering why there is only one.

"Was I the only one to order my mattress?" You look towards your sorority who holds a guilty look before you glance at the three men who mirror the women. 

"Well I guess that is for the better. We can spend extra on them now anyway." 

"Are you sure? I thought the budget was tight." Denki asks, earning a rare boasting smile from you. You make your way into the kitchen and six ducklings follow. Your nail taps the stainless steel of a high end commercial fridge. 

"It was tight before but not after I got this." Smile remaining on your lips as you speak, "It was 3,000 off due to some cosmetic dents but I got it as a donation. An alumni donation." 

"Wow for free?!" Denki and Sero ask in unison, amazed by your skill. 

"For free boys." 

"Wow, Bakugou might love that fridge even more now. Every time he cooks he mentions how great it is." Kirishama laughs but a certain name causes you to freeze to the tiled floor. 

"Bakugou…" You turn to Mina with a deadly glare as ice crystals form in your hair, "As in Bakugou lives here?!" 

The silence echoes throughout the kitchen and all that can be heard is the hum of the fancy fridge. Just as you're about to snap, Denki intervenes. 

"Uh. Did you want to talk bedrooms?" 

"YES!" The girls yell pulling the boys back into the safety of the living room as you collect yourself for a moment. 

God you hated the effect his name had on you but even more so how stupid you felt. As if this was some half baked plan to leave out the important detail that the man you loathed most would be under the same roof. Finally after a few deep breaths the ice in your hair melts and you step into the living room with a level head. Reminding yourself that this house was going to be rent free. You would have a full sized kitchen and your own bedroom, this was a much better option than the dorms even if it meant Bakugou came with it. 

"There is one bedroom upstairs not claimed, the rest of us guys are up there too. Then that door next to the nook is the study, it's not huge but it has a lot of shelves and big enough to fit a queen. Um there are two bedrooms in the basement but it's not totally dark down there. Plus the second living room with the pong table is down there. What else?" Denki taps his finger to his lips, "Oh half bath is here. Full bathroom is upstairs and there is technically another full bath in the basement, it's just more 'open concept'." 

"Open concept?" Jiro asks, earjacks perking with curiosity. 

"He means no walls. Just a toilet and a shower head chilling next to the laundry sink and washer, dryer." Sero explains, again you tongue the inside of your bottom lip. 

"Girl huddle!" Mina shouts, pulling the three of you into a small circle, "I personally really would like one of the bedrooms in the basement. I'm loud and I wouldn't mind the late hours that come with the pong table. I am the QUEEN after all." 

"I want a bedroom in the basement too. You know my music gets super loud!" Jiro pipes in. Uraraka wants to say something but politely waits for you, instead you gesture for her to speak first. 

"I...I would be much more comfortable in the study. I don't mind it being small." Her brown eyes bore holes into the floorboards as you read between the lines. 

"I would be much more comfortable on a different level than all four men." Is what she means, you sigh internally, swearing this will be the last compromise you make for these women. 

"Then I'll take the room upstairs." You state before telling the boys the arrangements. You look at your watch to check the time. 

"If we leave now in the college van and trailer I borrowed we could get everyone else's mattresses tonight." You look around the room before asking, "So where is Bakugou anyway?" 

The three boys glance at one another, Kirishima speaks up. 

"He had a….previous obligation." He laughs, rubbing the back of his head. You narrow your eyes. 

"Let me call him. This is more important than whatever he is doing. It clearly isn't school related." You hold out your hand for the red head's phone, he pulls it from his pocket reluctantly. 

It rings before going to voicemail but that's never stopped you before. You call until he picks up screaming into the receiver. 

"WHAT THE FUCK I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING CALL SHITTY HAIR!!!" 

"Enough with the dramatics, what could be more important than your other roommates deciding bedrooms in the house?" 

"Is that?!" A female voice screeches your name once she figured out who you are, "Listen here slut, I'm in the middle of getting my back broken and…" 

"Bakugou we are leaving in fifteen minutes. I advise that you get here on time. Otherwise we will leave without you." You interrupt the angry booty call. 

"And if I fucking don't, Icebrat?" You roll your eyes at the nickname as you sigh. 

"Then I'll spend your portion of the allowance on something else. Fifteen minutes." 

"OI!" Bakugou shouts before a woman's voice comes across the speaker.

"Stop ignoring me bitch and stop talking to my man!"

"Oh sweetheart your 'man' is only going to your place cause he sleeps on a crusty ass futon not because he actually likes you." Your voice is honeyed in venom before dipping low, "Bakugou be home or you forfeit the fucking funding for your bed."  

With that you hang up, passing Kirishima's phone back to him. Everyone shares a glance as they remember just how icy you can be, there was no threat in your voice. Only a promise to Bakugou. 

"Sero be a dear and help me take my mattress up." You ask lifting the box with the unbuilt frame with ease. Suddenly skittish Sero takes a moment to grab your mattress as Denki helps him bring it up the stairs but abandons Sero by the bathroom at the top of the stairs, forcing the tape hero to face this challenge alone. Sero only hopes the room neighboring yours is shut and he sighs with relief when it is. 

He helps you set the items into your room that is located in the front of the house.  You take in the view of the perfectly sized yet small bedroom. Two large sets of sliding doors that meet in the corner force you to place your bed against what you assume is the shared wall of one of your roommates. Sero swallows thickly as he realizes just why Denki abandoned him. He can see it in your eyes, the curiosity sparkling as you turn to face him, you're going to inquire about the room next door. 

Please Gods do not ask him. 

Don't fucking asking him please. 

"Who do I owe the pleasure?" You smile sweetly, praying it is Kirishima or Sero at the very least. Hell you'd even take Denki who sings loudly off key, as long as it wasn't Bakugou. You watch the raven hair man's face fall, his dark eyes avoiding yours as he answers and yet somehow you already knew. 

"Ba-Bakugou's" The room drops twenty degrees as the floor freezes beneath your feet, snow floating gently to the floor as Sero's breath puffs in the new found tundra. 

"SERO I NEED YOUR HELP MAN! JIRO'S DRUM SET AND AMPS ARE HEAVY!" Denki calls from downstairs, saving Sero's hide. The man rushes and catches himself from slipping before he practically jumps down the entire set of stairs. 

"How did she take it?" Mina whispers before following Sero's eyes to where your bedroom should be. Urakaka comes from the study with snowflakes dusting her hair and a shiver. 

"Well at least I'll never be hot in the summer." 

[fandom-gt]

Now for Diego. This is set after the siblings left the Academy, but before the series begins.

Diego is having a tough time staying afloat as a newly independent adult. He hasn't flunked out of police training yet, but he's not making a lot of money and he's just moved into the boiler room at Al's gym. Meanwhile, Klaus is partying through life, and he imposes himself on Diego whenever he doesn't have somewhere else to crash. Diego is feeling bitter that Klaus seems to not care about trying to earn a stable living and he prioritizes drugs and having fun while Diego is always worried out of his mind about making ends meet and keeping Klaus alive.

Diego rants about all this to Allison over the phone, and she's very sympathetic. Diego says a throwaway comment like, "I wish I could just keep him locked in a kennel while I'm away so he can't get into trouble. And so he'll stop scratching up the furniture." Then Klaus walks in and before Diego can hang up, Allison asks to speak to Klaus.

Obviously, she shrinks him over the phone.

She asks if it worked, and after Klaus and Diego are done freaking out, Diego agrees that it's a good plan. This would work better than any of the times they tried rehab. Diego gets a hamster cage or a goldfish bowl to keep Klaus in, both to keep from accidentally squishing him and to keep him from escaping. Klaus, of course, escapes regularly anyway.

Diego is still going out with Patch, and she discovers that Diego is keeping his brother shrunk and captive against his will, but she accepts his reasoning. Still, Klaus is a major cockblock when they're at Diego's, and he makes such a nuisance of himself that Patch can't stand to come over. Klaus tells her lots of personal things about Diego, and though that's not the reason she ends up breaking up with him, Diego blames Klaus anyway. Add on top of that Diego getting kicked off the force, and you've got a guy in a really bad mood.

Diego hasn't been able to jack it in a long time because of Klaus, and now he doesn't have a girlfriend either. He snaps and decides that Klaus has never had any shame anyway, he can masturbate in his own home if he wants to. He doesn't realize that Klaus has escaped his cage again and was attempting to find a way down from the table he's kept on. Klaus had gotten into the drawer where Diego's fleshlight is, and was going to try getting inside it and pushing it off the edge so it will cushion his landing. When Diego picked it up, he inadvertently scoops Klaus, who had been pushing it for a while and was exhausted, up with it.

Cue Diego utilizing the fleshlight, amazed by how good it feels. He didn't remember his fleshlight feeling so good? Klaus, meanwhile, is getting crushed by Diego's giant cock, and can barely draw a breath before the next thrust drives it out again, foreskin smothering him. It's not until Diego slows down to edge himself (and pull out far enough that Klaus can breathe) that Klaus manages to shout for help.

Diego reacts similar to Steve in "I Won't, I Won't." He's surprised, horny, and turned on by the fact that Klaus is the thing stimulating his cock so deliciously. He asks Klaus if he can feel this, as he gives a few experimental thrusts. Klaus confirms he can, and he can't breathe, and he's already practically drowning in precome, Diego's got to let him out of there. Diego says, just a minute, I'm so close, you feel so good-

Klaus says, no, you can't come on me, don't come, I'll drown. I'll drown in your cum if you don't let me out-

Diego's cock jumps in excitement at that, but Diego says, relax, I'll let you out, just... wiggle for me a little first, you feel so good down there...

When Klaus pretests, Diego tells him he's not taking his dick out until he's satisfied by Klaus's performance. Klaus better get moving, or Diego will just finish it himself and leave him in there. Klaus does, wiggling with all his might, and Diego makes sure to let him breathe regularly. Because of this, Klaus has air to plead for freedom, and Diego loves hearing him beg, loves hearing Klaus say his cock is too heavy and that he's drowning in his pre-

A fat drop of pre rolls directly onto Klaus's face while he's trying to breathe, causing him to splutter and cough, choking on the thick spunk.

That does Diego in and he comes, thrusting wildly into the fleshlight and over Klaus's little body, milking himself dry. He takes several moments after he's finished to bask, his cock still crushing Klaus, his cum filling up the rest of the space inside the fleshlight, enjoying the fact that his cum is suffocating Klaus, like the fulfillment of Klaus's prophecy. But he doesn't want Klaus to actually drown, so he pulls out and dumps the contents into Klaus's cage.

The sight of Klaus soaked in his jizz and gasping for breath is gratifying, and Diego decides right then and there that this is going to be a regular thing. Klaus owes him for everything Diego has done for him, and for driving Eudora away. It's only fair.

Diego secures Klaus's cage so he can no longer get out. In this idea, Klaus finds out he's immortal when Diego gets careless with him, but Diego didn't notice. Klaus dies and comes back to life while Diego is still using him, stunned by his death and by the lack of care Diego shows towards his well being. He didn't even notice. Would he care if he had?

Klaus keeps it to himself because he's terrified that if Diego finds out, he'll lose all restraint and treat Klaus even more roughly. Diego is already turned on by the thought of drowning Klaus in his cum, what if he finds out that he can do it and Klaus will just resurrect? Klaus doesn't want to know, so now he lives in fear of Diego and of dying, but his biggest fear is Diego finding out he's been dying and losing the modicum of caution Diego still shows him.

For the record, yes, that is what would happen. Diego would be relieved that Klaus isn't in any REAL danger and would allow himself to let loose, upping Klaus's death rate by a lot.

-Eek

eek's prompt re: diego

[aliatori]

Hey! I'm going to ask for L, O, T, S (and let you pick which one(s) you want to answer :B)

Oh hey lio, thanks for the asks. <3 Lucky for you, you get the answers to all 4, since L and T are here and I’ll answer the other two in this post.

O: What motivates you to write?

My half-serious and off the top of the head answers: deadlines where I risk disappointing someone if I miss it… and spite. So much spite.

Joking aside, the answer to this varies on several fronts. For original fiction, a lot of my writing motivation stems from wanting to follow a passing idea down the rabbit hole, wherever that might lead. A few recent stories started with questions/concepts like ‘What would an isolated village where residents are cursed to never look in a mirror look like, and why are they cursed?’ or ‘Orpheus/Eurydice, except Orpheus is toxically obsessed and gets as many chances as he wants to ‘rescue’ her, and Eurydice is a genderfluid demigod who gets more powerful every time she’s sent—or sends herself, bloodily and messily—back to hell’.

When I’m in a period writing for fandom, I mostly want to see my faves in whatever tropey situations I like, subverted or not. Since I tend to pick… uh, Canon’s Least Loved ™ characters as my faves (insert me looking longingly at a certain Prince’s Shield or a white-haired Empress to be who dresses all in red), it’s often a ‘If you want something done, do it yourself’ that motivates me to write whatever I have in mind. I’m also a flagrant multishipper, but usually in the sense where I ship my fave(s) with almost everyone and want to explore those dynamics.

There’s also some truth to the opening jokes. When I’m in a slump OR when I want to keep writing motivation going, I’ll often seek out an exchange that sounds interesting so I’m ‘forced’ to write. This is incidentally how The Forsaken and the Forsworn became a thing, so success levels vary from ‘fun exchange’ to ‘holy shit I’m on month three and counting of constant obsession’. And I’m not exactly proud of the whole spite/contrarianism motivation, but hey, sometimes you see a bad take in passing and channel it into creativity.

In general, giving myself permission not to feel obligated to share things and have fun with it has been helpful in motivating me to sit down and put words to documents. (We won’t talk about how I’ve needed find other motivation for when I do need to eventually share said words, hahaha.) Thinking of the dopamine hit of putting the finishing line down on a one shot or shorter piece is often enough to get me in the chair, and for longer projects, thinking of getting to The Next Big, Exciting Scene is my carrot to chase.

And this is perhaps the most bitter pill to swallow but… sometimes waiting for motivation is like waiting for rain in the desert. It’s a regular occurrence where I sit down, set a timer, and agree with myself to work on my current project for X amount of time. I like it when I feel motivated, but it can be a luxury feeling, especially when life or mental health isn’t cooperating but I still want to get stuff done.

S: Would you let a stranger off the streets read your first drafts?

If this requires a yes or no answer alone, abso-fucking-lutely not.

If I can add some addendums, I’d say it depends. It would be far more likely for my original work, especially if I got to elevator pitch the stranger first and let them decide if they’re interested. I like my writing a lot, but I also realize M-E rated speculative queer work isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea.

For fanfiction, I would sooner eat a kilo of black licorice in one sitting than show them to a stranger on the streets, though I’ve thrown rough stuff up on Tumblr and such. My poetry and essay first drafts are between me, my hard drive, and the gods alone; nothing horrifies my private Scorpio nature than letting my messy, raw, emotional work be seen before thorough editing for craft purposes.

[rudderless-in-an-ocean-of-stars]

of broken mirrors and haunted rooms (i'm empty inside but so are you)

Avatar: The Last Airbender was one of my first fandoms, and still is to this day, so I dug up a half-written fic from a few years ago and cobbled together a little something.

Bear in mind, this was one of my first attempts at fiction of any kind.

Read it here or on Ao3 at:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10998975

Summary:

After nearly half a decade in a cell, the decision to take Azula’s bending away has finally been made.

Someone has to break the news to her, and who better than the Avatar, who has spent the past three years trying to show the princess the kindness he realized she’d never known.

Note: Assuming Aang was 12 coming out of the ice and 14 at the series finale, this takes place roughly 5 years after that. We don’t ever really get to find out the ages of the other characters, so this fic is going by my rules.

This makes Aang, Azula, Katara, Sokka, Mai, Ty Lee, and Suki all about 19 years old. Zuko, canonically one year older than Azula, so he’s 20. Toph, as the youngest, is only 18. You only see Azula and Aang here, but I just wanted to let you know where everyone else stands in my little fanfiction universe, just in case this ever expands.

The Avatar doesn’t take away her bending.

Doesn’t need to, because that’s what the drugs are for. It takes the doctors years to figure it out, how to make something that will block her chi and nothing else.

She’s told that the Fire Lord was adamant that the medicine only bind her powers, not her mind.

She’s heard the stories of what drugs like this do to people. How it takes away their bending. How it takes away everything else, too. Hollows them out until nothing remains but a practically catatonic shell that once used to be a functioning person.

That’s why it’s taken them so long to cook up a recipe that wouldn’t leave her virtually brain-dead, all at little Zu-Zu’s behest. She didn’t realize he still cared so much.

Maybe he just wanted her awake enough to be able to gloat.

If only they knew that their work was wasted on her.

Ozai had taken great care to strip out her insides and replace everything warm and living with cold, dead things a long time ago.

There was nothing left for the Fire Lord to preserve, but his misplaced affection for the little sister he wished she could have been blinds him to the fact that Azula has been scraped empty long ago.

She sees it in his eyes every time he comes to visit- the little boy he used to be. The big brother, responsible for his baby sister.

She’s neither a baby nor his sister anymore.

Would that they could, Azula knows they would have preferred to slip it into her food without her noticing at all.

But the taste is too bitter for them to mask, to crush pills into powder and stir it into her tea, so they are forced tell her up front that she will be medicated.

Rather, they send in the Avatar to do it, terrified of her reaction to the news.

She hasn’t actually burned anyone in years, merely sent out flashy displays of sapphire flames as a warning to anyone who draws her ire. But her scare tactics have worked well over the past few years, and work well even now.

“I’m sorry, but it’s the only way.” He looks at her with wide, apologetic eyes, brimming with a mixture of hope and compassion that turns her stomach at the sight.

“Why?” She snorts, rolling her eyes, “Isn’t being in this glorified prison misery enough?”

The corners of his lips twitch downwards as he averts his gaze.

His reaction to her words elicits a harsh bark of laughter from her throat.

“I see. The rest of the world isn’t content to have me simply locked up for the rest of my days. They want me to suffer.” Just like I made them suffer, she thinks, pursing her lips to keep the wayward thought from escaping her mouth.

In typical Airbender fashion, he redirects her barb with fluid ease. “And you consider being here punishment enough for your crimes?”

Ah.

Punishment.

Azula’s least favorite word after Ozai and Father and dutiful.

“It doesn’t matter what I think or who I am.” She nods towards the evenly spaced steel bars stretched out across her window. “What matters is what everyone else beyond these walls wants.”

It’s never mattered, none of it. None of her hopes and dreams and desires and fears. None of it has ever mattered to anyone. At least Ozai had the decency to be up front about what he wanted from her. About how he saw her, what she was.

The Avatar narrows his eyes at her, and she can almost see the gears turning in his head as she stares back, unflinching in the face of his unwavering gaze.

The past few years have changed him just as much as they’ve changed her.

He’s older now, leaner.

If she’s correct in assuming that they’re both around the same age, he’s nearly twenty now, like her.

Age has stripped them both of the baby fat that once softened their features half a decade ago when they first met, children fighting a war started by people who didn’t fully understand that the price to pay for power was blood.

Or perhaps they did understand, and chose to spill it anyway, painting the world crimson and leaving stains that would likely never wash away.

Thinking about either option for too long always makes something in Azula’s gut twist.

He’s grown into himself, no longer looking like someone far beyond their years trapped in a childish form.

But his eyes remain the same, youthful and ancient all at once, and still gleaming with the unmistakable spark of hope.

Azula hasn’t looked into a mirror since the day she shattered her mother’s reflection, but she knows that her own eyes carry no such emotion.

Hope was something that Ozai had taken pains to ensure would never blossom in Azula’s heart. He’d stolen it from her as soon as he was able, extinguished from her childish eyes to be replaced with the cold steel of blades forged in angry flames.

They sit like that for several moments, neither one moving. Neither one looking away.

Then he speaks, and it strikes at the wobbly foundations of sanity she’s struggled to build ever since the day she shattered her mind along with that mirror.

“So who are you, Princess Azula?” She’s long-since lost any right to the title, but that never stopped him from using it, not three years ago when these visits first began and certainly not now. “And what do you want?”

She turns away from his piercing stare, the hand buried in the folds of her skirt curling into a fist as her nails bite deep enough to draw blood.

For the first time, she is the one who looks away.

The significance of the gesture is not lost on him- she can tell as much by the way he stiffens in surprise. But she cuts him off before he has a chance to speak again.

After all, her fragile tether on sanity could only take so much in a single day.

“Don’t ask questions you aren’t ready to have answered, Avatar.” She says it quietly, voice low and tight with an emotion she knows he can’t quite place, because neither can she.

Don’t ask questions I’m not ready to answer, she thinks, but the words go unsaid.

She doesn’t know if she can trust her voice to carry them.

She doesn’t know if she can trust the Avatar to understand.

For the first time since he started visiting, her voice shakes.

Azula looks brittle, as if the next wrong move could shatter her and every single bit of progress he’s spent the past three years trying to make.

As much as he wants to push, to finally solve a piece of the puzzle that is the deposed princess, he knows he can’t. Not if he wants there to be anything left for him to solve.

He bows his head in acquiescence. “I apologize, Princess.”

She nods silently in response, now peering carefully at the embroidery of the silken scarf resting in her lap despite the fact that they both know she could care less about its craftsmanship.

The piece is exquisite, its stitching flawless- he knows this, because he’s the one who bought it for her. It’s become something of a tradition- giving her a tiny token of appreciation for allowing these visits, for speaking to him when they both know she could simply treat him like everyone else who tried to arrange a meeting- with the stiff, regal silence befitting her former station.

He’s still not really sure why she tolerates him in the first place.

Zuko tells him it’s because he’s the Avatar, and if there’s anything Azula respects, it’s power.

Aang thinks it might be something else.

He can wield the four elements, but the princess is a prodigy in her own right.

He may be the Avatar, but she is Azula.

Azula, who possesses sapphire flames and a mastery over the most difficult of all firebending skills- manipulating lightning.

Three years ago, when he’d first dared to enter her room, Azula had no need to respect his power. Not when she was already so sure of her own.

She was still the same girl who had struck him down with a bolt of lightning, the same girl who had shown no fear at the prospect of confronting the Avatar.

The same girl who had left a scar on his back that not even Katara’s considerable skills as a Master Waterbender and healer could dissolve.

But for some reason, she tolerated him.

And over three years of regular visits and carefully worded exchanges over tea, he’s never asked why.

One day, he hopes she’ll feel comfortable enough to tell him.

But the dismissal is evident as she skims a hand along the silk of his latest gift to her, firmly ignoring his presence.

“Until tomorrow, Princess.”

For a single second, her eyes dart back up to meet his, golden irises flashing bright in the light spilling through the bars of her windows.

“Until tomorrow,” she echoes, casting her gaze back down to the fabric in her lap, the expression etched across her features still unreadable.

He’s nearly out the door when he hears her call out behind him, hesitant and unsure.

“Avatar?”

He stops and turns back instantly- uncertain isn’t a word he’s ever associated with Princess Azula, but it’s how she sounds now.

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow, you said they’ll begin giving me medication during tea.” Again, the flicker of her aureate eyes looking up to meet his lasts only a moment, too fast for him to read the emotions glimmering within. “Will you join me?”

I don’t want to be alone.

It goes unspoken, but they both hear it just the same.

He realizes it then, how much this must scare her.

From the little she’s shared and the information he’s managed to pry out of Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee, her firebending has been the one constant in her life.

And now, like everything else, it’s being taken away.

All this time, he’s waited for her to open up, to show the vulnerability he’s never doubted she possessed, not since the day he watched her lose her mind as well as her crown. It had struck him then, that she must have lost as much, if not more, than he and his friends. The cost of the war had been paid by both sides of it.

But this is not the way he’d wanted to get her to open up.

He bows, not deep enough to appear subservient, but deep enough that his feelings are made clear.

“I would be honored.”

Good? Bad? Absolute trash?

Should it end here or should I pick it up after all these years and turn it into something longer?

Let me know down below. :)

[newssplashy]

I may not have a doctorate (or a bachelor’s degree,) but I HAVE been having copious amounts of butt sex for the last decade, so I'm here to answer all of your sex and relationship questions.

Hi, everyone! I'm Asa Akira, and I’m officially now an unqualified sex and relationship columnist. This is the fifth installment of Ask Asa, my column for Men's Health.

I may not have a doctorate (or a bachelor’s degree,) but I HAVE been having copious amounts of butt sex for the last decade, so I'm here to answer all of your sex and relationship questions.

If you have any questions for me, shoot them to Men's Health on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagramwith the hashtag #AskAsa. Don't hold back - I certainly won't.

I’ve been super shy my whole life (I’m 35 now). I think every girl is out of my league. What advice do you have on breaking the shyness? I’m getting older and want to have kids and get married!

I grew up really shy, and at the core, I still am - so I understand how unhelpful it is when people say, “Just get over it!” or, “All you have to do is gain confidence!”

For me, a trick that’s worked is when I just think of socializing as my job. When I’m in a social situation, I actually pretend I’m being paid to be there and talk to people. It weirdly takes the pressure off of getting rejected, or “failing” to be engaging. Because if those things happen, oh, well, I still did my job.

Of course, the goal is to be engaging; and if there’s one thing everyone loves, it’s talking about themselves. In the beginning, when you’re still getting acquainted with a new person and warming up, ask a ton of questions about them: What do they like to do for fun outside of their job? What kinds of things make them laugh the hardest? If they could only eat one food for the rest of her life, what would it be? It’ll show them you’re interested in who they are as a person, and more importantly, it’ll give you insight into whether or not they're ultimately a good match for you.

Does pineapple juice actually change the taste of your semen? Have you tested the theory?

I’ve tested the theory so much, I’m practically a scientist.

No, but seriously: while I have not found that pineapple juice specifically can alter the taste of semen, most men's health experts agree that your diet affects the taste of your semen, and any sugary or acidic foods can cut down on its naturally bitter taste. That includes lemon, cranberries, and yup, pineapple.

In my own personal experience, I have found that the healthier the diet, the more inoffensive-tasting the jizz; the unhealthier the diet, the worse it tastes. In fact, I am proud to say that once, upon sampling one gentleman's seed, it tasted so bad that I gently recommended he go to the doctor to see where his insulin levels are. The doctor reported he was, in fact, pre-diabetic, and through an improved diet and exercise, he was able to avoid a lifelong disease. To this day, this is still one of my proudest moments. 

 How do you deal with the stigma attached to shooting porn?

I deal with it by reminding myself of my own morals, values, and ethics. Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with me shooting porn - I am having safe sex and fulfilling my fantasy of being watched by eager and horny viewers. The career choice has afforded me self-worth, a comfortable lifestyle, and the kind of sex life that most people can only dream about. If there are people out there who think that’s bad, then so be it; I’ll be orgasming all the way to the bank.

Porn has given me self-worth, a comfortable lifestyle, and the kind of sex life that most people can only dream about. If there are people out there who think that’s bad, then so be it; I’ll be orgasming all the way to the bank.

What's your advice for keeping a relationship alive?

The last time I spoke on relationships, I got divorced (for the second time in my life) a few months later, so my first piece of advice is to take my advice with a grain of salt.

That said, I’ve found that as cliché as it is, the keys to a healthy relationship are honesty and communication. And therapy.

I cannot express how wonderful couples' therapy has been in my current relationship; we started sessions early on, and it has been a truly educating and infinitely helpful experience. I’ve learned so much about myself, my own insecurities and weaknesses, and how to avoid falling into the same patterns I’ve been repeating with other relationships throughout my entire life. It’s given us the vocabulary to communicate clearly and efficiently, and it’s allowed me to be intimate in a way I have never experienced. Every conflict is now an opportunity to grow closer, and in turn, I am having the best sex of my life because my guards are all down.

So final answer, after two failed marriages and and dozens of toxic breakups: Get professional help.

"Porn has given me self-worth, a comfortable lifestyle, and the kind of sex life that most people can only dream about. If there are people out there who think that’s bad, then so be it; I’ll be orgasming all the way to the bank."

Is it bad to want to have sex everyday? Should I hold out and find a partner who feels the same, or accept the fact that I'll never find that and settle for less?

If wanting sex everyday is wrong, then who would want to be right? Seriously, though, there are definitely women out there that want sex every day naturally. (Hello, me.) In fact, contrary to the stereotype that men have inherently higher sex drives than women do, some studies have shown that women not only desire sex just as much as men do, but that they're turned on by a wider range of stimuli.

Most importantly, many women are capable of wanting sex every day - it’s just up to you to consistently make her feel that way. Many studies have shown that the most reliable way to turn a woman on is to make her feel like you're turned on by her, and this is absolutely true: personally, I feel the horniest when I’m feeling hot and sexy, so the more you remind me of that, the more I’ll actually want to have sex.

So find out what turns your partner on, and do it often. Keep in mind that it's not really realistic to expect to have sex every single day, as there are a lot of real-life factors - work stress, having kids, etc. - that get in the way. But know that yes, there are tons of women out there who are just as horny (if not hornier) than you.

 How do I last longer in bed?

I don’t have a penis, so I can’t speak from personal experience. But I am a woman, so I can tell you from my perspective: sex is not all about penetration. If you keep us satisfied, we are never going to complain about how long you last in bed, and there are so many ways to do that without relying on plain old penetration.

If you are more on the minute-man end of the scale, mix it up! Go down on your partner, use your fingers, use toys, engage in a lot of dirty talk, etc. If you're having sex and you feel like you’re getting close, take a break and go down on her - that is NEVER going to go under-appreciated. I love a man who uses variety way more than the one-trick pony who just wants to have straight-up vanilla P-in-V sex for 20 minutes straight.

 "If I want to have sex with a consenting adult for money, it's silly that the government won't allow me to do so. I hope we are soon living in a world where we are all horrified by the way things used to be."

Do you think that the future of porn is activism?

We have seen a huge rise in political action from the porn industry in the last few years. Performers and producers like jessica drake, Julia Ann, Jiz Lee, Connor Habib, and so many others have been on the forefront of big issues like the fight for marriage equality and the battle against Measure B, the law that would have required performers in porn to wear condoms on camera. I think this will only continue to rise.

I would also love to ultimately see all sex work legalized. As a porn actor who primarily shoots in California, my work is legal, but that is not the case for escorts or other women who make their living selling sex. Violence against sex workers is remarkably common: in fact, the mortality rate for female sex workers is much higher than that of women in pretty much any other profession.

To me, it's obvious that the very thing that makes prostitution dangerous is the fact that it operates behind closed doors, where it can't be regulated. If we could legalize prostitution, we could finally implement procedures like regular STD testing and background checks. If I want to have sex with a consenting adult for money, it's silly that the government won't allow me to do so. I hope we are soon living in a world where we are all horrified by the way things used to be.

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